


Ace of Diamonds

by ChocoBear, xflaire



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Aro - Freeform, Aromantic, Aromantic spectrum, Asexual, F/M, Gen, Grey-Aromantic, Other, ace - Freeform, focusing more on the romantic side, more like aromantic side but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoBear/pseuds/ChocoBear, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xflaire/pseuds/xflaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romance is a necessity. Without romance, we are nothing. Romance is what keeps us going, what makes us happy to live another day with another chance to be in a romantic relationship. Without romance, there isn't happiness.</p><p>Or so they say. </p><p>What happens if, by chance, one does not experience it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ace of Diamonds represents grey-aromantic asexuals.
> 
> This is my story. Names are switched for privacy reasons.

“You’ll make a good wife.”

 

“Learn how to cook! Your future husband will need it, after all.”

 

“How are you going to get a boyfriend wearing those clothes?”

 

“Do you have a crush on a boy in your class?”

 

“You should put on a little weight. No boy wants skin and bones.”

 

_Love. Boys. Wife. Falling in love. Husband. Marriage. First Crush. Boyfriend._

 

_Love._

_Love._

  


_Love._ I never understood it, really. I’m six years old and my family is already bringing potential boyfriends, husbands, and lovers to the focus of my thoughts. I think it’s weird. I look around the playground from my perch at the top of the monkey bars. A group of girls are standing near the front slide on the other side of the playground, giggling behind their small hands at something I can’t see. I follow their line of sight.

 

Boys are playing soccer on a rich, green field. They’re using shoes and sweaters as goalposts. The game consists of 12 people. From the looks of it, they’re all in my grade. Their uniform pants are smeared with streaks of mud, and their hands aren’t in better condition. I notice that the girls are giggling at one boy in particular. He has soft, raven hair that easily moves in the wind. His movements are fluid and he easily dominates the game. Examining them further leads to recognizing that most of the boys playing the game are in my class, including him.

 

He’s cute, I suppose.

 

\--

Two months later, we’re dating. Three days after that, he tells me he loves me.

 

It’s surprising. I’m only six, after all. What does this kid even know about love? What do _I_ know about love? I’m clearly an expert. I’ve seen all those icky love movies my sister watches, after all. People who are in love are dating and they kiss each other. I remember kissing him on the cheek when he asked me to be his girlfriend. And we are dating. So do I love him?

 

I suppose so...

 

I lower my head and hesitantly say, “I guess… I guess I love you too.”  

 

\--

I walk into third grade with my hair haphazardly sticking out of my head. My thick, unruly locks don’t seem to follow the laws of gravity. I’m not focused on that, though. I’m more focused on what friends I’m going to make and who’s gonna be my playground buddy.

 

I sit down at the desk that has the words ‘Nalleli Rodriguez’ written in big, blocky letters. Although I want to make friends, I’m not so good at socializing with people I don’t know, so I keep my eyes trained on the back of the head of the boy sitting in front of me.

 

The teacher welcomes us with a warm smile and tells us we have ten minutes to talk to each other. The people around me immediately converse with others as if they’ve been best friends for all of their lives. I sigh. _Why can’t I make friends like they do...._

I notice someone moving at the corners of my vision and I tilt my head up. The boy in front of me is now facing me. His lips are pulled up into a smile and his eyes have a glint in them. I frown.

 

“Hey.” he says.

 

“Hi.”

 

He looks down at the paper with my name on it and raises an eyebrow. Here it goes. My name is always mispronounced. “Na….leh...lee? How do you say that?”

 

“Na-yeh-lee. The two L’s make a y sound.”

 

He smiles that smile again. “Well, Na-yeh-lee, I’m Da-nee-ehl. Let’s be friends.”

 

My stomach churns. I don’t like the vibe he’s giving me.

 

“Yeah…”

 

\--

I don’t like him. He makes me feel anxious, scared, trapped, ugly, and emotionally manipulated. He’s attached to me, though, and I fear that it’s in a romantic way. He’s like the embodiment of the horrible stereotypical boy who bullies you when he likes you. Adults tell me I’m supposed to be flattered, but I’m not.

 

That’s not to say I’m innocent. He’s the person I talk to the most other than my best friend. I try to fit in with him. I talk like he does, I do what he does, and I hate it. I’m becoming the person I don’t like. I feel myself mounting my frustration on to my best friend. It’s so unfair to her. I start bullying her like Daniel bullies me. I feel that she’s starting to dislike me.

\--

Daniel liked me through grades 3 to 5. I’m out of elementary school, and I’ve never felt so free. The fact that he liked me was so revolting. It made me feel horrible. Walking into Thomas Jefferson Middle School with slightly more kempt hair, I breathe in the air and feel a sense of liberty.

 

\--

 

Seventh grade- one of the worst years of school for me. I wasn’t bullied, harassed, beat, or anything along those lines, for the most part. I had my first and only crush.

 

\--

**I like you. Do you like me?**

 

Like a coward, and like a 12 year old, I confess my feelings through text.

 

I sit back against the headboard of my messy bed with my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. My first crush. My first love. _This was what they were talking about, huh?_

 

If he says yes, I’ll be a girlfriend. I’ll be dating someone, and doing couple-y stuff like all couples do. Even now, I can’t really imagine myself doing that. I scrunch my eyes closed and try to imagine myself doing all of these things. Almost immediately, I regret it. The thought of kissing him, texting him every day, keeping up with the responsibility of dating someone……

 

My iPod flashes and I look down at it with wide, hopeful eyes.

 

**[New Facebook Message]**

**I’m sorry, I don’t have the same feelings.**

 

I set my iPod down with trembling fingers, with eyes so wet that tears threaten to spill at any second. There’s a hole in my heart, but deep in that hole, hidden in the deepest crevices of the pain of rejection:

 

a sense of relief.

 

\--

 

By May of seventh grade, I’m completely over him. But I’m weary around him. I’m embarrassed that I even liked him. Not because he’s a bad person, but because of all the things I did and said. I regret it. I don’t regret what it taught me, I regret liking him. I wish I hadn’t.

 

\--

 

_“I’m ace.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“It’s short for Asexual.”_

_“.........”_

_Connie sighs through the mic. “It means I don’t experience sexual attraction. There could have been plenty of times where I had sex with girls, but each time I turned them down. I use my dick as a pisshose and that’s it.”_

_Jean’s eyebrow furrows. “How can you be asexual and still like girls…?” He questions, adjusting the mic._

_“I’m heteroromantic. Means I’m romantically attracted to girls, and it doesn’t affect my sexual orientation at all. Most people have romantic and sexual orientations that match up, for example, Marco’s biromantic and bisexual. But some peoples’ don’t do that, like me.”_

 

I stare at my screen in bewilderment. I was reading a simple story, I didn’t expect to find that there are other sexualities. And what’s the deal with these ‘romantic orientations’?

 

I turn off my iPod and run to my computer, typing ‘what’s an asexual?” into the Google search box.

 

**Asexual (noun)**

**a person who has no or very little sexual feelings or desires.**

 

It fits.

 

\--

 

I’m in Thomas Jefferson Middle School, 2nd floor, Room 208, the furthest left desk in the cluster that makes a table, with my friends Ana, Cymia, and the target of my confusing feelings: Gabriela. For short, Gabby.

 

She’s conventionally pretty. She has straight, dirty-blonde hair that reaches her mid-back matched with brown-green eyes. Her smile is okay. But my heart just raced for half a second for whatever reason. It could have been excitement for the new episode of my favorite show that day, could have been the happiness of reading my favorite fictions, or the aftershocks of the loud laughter we all just shared.

 

Doesn’t matter what it is.

 

I convince myself that I like her.

 

\--

 

“I think……...I think I like a girl.”

 

Cymia and I were walking towards Gabby’s house, with the wind blowing in our hair. The Autumn leaves were circling around us as her eyes lit up with excitement.

 

“Really? Who?!” She exclaimed as she grabbed my arm. My pace slowed down as I thought about what I was going to say. I don’t really know Cymia. The only reason we talk is because we have the mutual friendship of Gaby, and we can’t hold much of a conversation without her presence.

 

But telling her this, these feelings even I wasn’t sure of, it would make it real. I wouldn’t be able to go back and change my mind. I shrug.

 

She takes that as a sign of not wanting to tell her and she shakes my arm, forcing my attention to her. Her eyes are shining with excitement. Why is she so excited?

 

“.....Gabby.”

 

I tell myself I’m hesitant because she’s a girl, but really, I’m not sure if I like her. Cymia’s eyes light up even more, if possible.

 

Halfway to their destination, two people are walking side by side, one hesitant and unsure and another excited, light-eyed, and smiling. Neither would have guessed that the long, bumpy road of conflicting emotions and the questioning of identities would have binded these once-strangers together, in a way that neither have experienced.

 

\--

**Nalleli Rodriguez- biromantic/ace, they/them, female.**

 

I press ‘enter’ into my bio, with not so much confidence.

 

\--

 

In the cold month of March, climbing up the school stairs beside my newest best friend, I call Gabby to talk with Cymia and I at the secluded staircase near my locker in the mere minutes before class starts.

 

Once all three of us are alone and I’m sure that no one is eavesdropping, I look up to Gabby. I take the time to notice how tall she is. She’s 5 foot 9, which is rare for an eighth grade girl, and much more rare for a Mexican girl. I scrunch up my brow. She’s so pale, and her eyes are so bright. Her hair is super silky, too.

 

What am I even thinking about? I’m distracting myself. I take a glance at Cymia’s patient, dark brown stare before setting my gaze once again on Gabby’s more worried eyes. “What?” She asks.

 

I sigh and look down once again. “....I’m bi….”

 

I cringe. Not because I’m scared of her reaction, but because it doesn’t fit. When I knew the definition of asexual, It fit. It clicked. but this, it doesn’t. What else could I be, though….

 

I looked up to see her expression. Her green eyes are surprised and questioning and her mouth is shaped like a small ‘o’. 

 

A moment of silence, and I almost wish she would question me, so I could question myself.

 

The bell rings, kids walk to their classes, and all she does is say, “Okay. That’s okay.”

 

I should be relieved, but I’m not.

 

\--

Gabby has a crush. His name is Isaac. I’m not one to hate people just because the person I like likes them. Sure, I get jealous, but I only hate them if they’ve done something bad to my crush or if they’re simply horrible.

 

This guy, though. He’s so annoying. His jokes don’t make sense, he has the sense of humor of an eight year old, he never wants to be wrong, he gets mad easily sometimes, and once, he came back from gym and was trying to cool himself off so he shook his shirt and oh man. It smelled like absolute, downright shit. I couldn’t stop myself from gagging when the horrible fumes of his stench made their way into my nose. He also wore the same sweater every day, which I would understand if he could simply wash it. _Ugh._

 

Can you tell that I don’t like this guy? Yeah. Honestly, I don’t get why I don’t like him so much. One second I was questioning my feelings for her, and the next I’m getting defensive about her liking some guy.

 

What’s up with me.

 

\--

 

Gabby and this guy, they’re dating now. A strange, indecipherable feeling rises in my stomach.

\--

 

My feelings, whatever they are, for Gabby are starting to fade. Every day that she talks more about her boyfriend, my jealousy’s fire dies and is replaced with sheer boredom.

 

That’s not to say that I don’t like her…….

 

…...right?

 

\--

 

I’ve noticed. Ever since I’ve come out, Gabby is more physical with me. She hugs me more, holds my hands more, hugs me more, touches me more, with the touch lingering. Why is she doing this?

 

Does she like me? A hope rises within my chest. Maybe if she likes me back, my heart would beat faster and my face would blush a deep crimson whenever she’s around.

 

\--

 

Cymia, Gabby, and I are at the park. Cymia is currently sitting on a wooden fence, facing us. Gabby and I are about 20 yards away from her, standing on the moist, late March grass. She grabs me suddenly, and she hugs me. I’m surprised. She then grabs my face with both of her big hands and tilts my face upwards, so that I’m facing her.

 

I’m met with green eyes, brighter than they’ve ever been before, and I give her a questioning look.

 

_why are you doing this._

 

All she does is stare back intensely, without saying a word.

 

_this is wrong._

 

She lowers her head slowly, almost timidly.

 

_what the hell are you doing._

Her eyes flutter closed.

 

_please don’t._

 

She’s inches from my face, and it’s so painstakingly slow.

 

_you have a boyfriend. someone you like. we’re in public. someone can see. cymia can see. i don’t like this. i don’t like this. i don’t like this._

 

One inch, 3 centimeters, two centimeters, one-

 

_**i don’t like you.** _

__

Her lips land on my forehead, and she lets go of my face. I’m released from my frozen state and I look up to see that her eyes are downcast.

 

A couple of seconds later, Gaby and I have distance between us, and Cymia comes running. We walk away from that spot, and Cymia gives me a knowing smile.

 

I smile back, but it doesn’t feel real.

 

Just like my feelings.

 

\--

 

Two days after that, she stops showing these signs completely.

 

\--

 

**Aromantic (noun)**

**someone who experiences little or no romantic attraction.**

 

It’s the middle of the night, and I’m squinting at the screen with half asleep eyes. It’s not like I haven’t seen the definition of an aromantic, I just never thought it was real.

 

How can someone not feel romantic attraction? It baffles me. Romance is supposed to be a part of life, everyone feels it, it’s everywhere. When I was a child, I was wondering who I’d get married to. I’d already picked a specific hair color, eye color, skin tone, personality, everything. Plus, I’ve liked someone before. I can’t be aromantic.

 

\--

...but it fits. somewhat.

\--

 

**Nalleli Rodriguez- aro/ace, they/them,  female.**

 

I hit ‘enter’ with a hint of reluctance.

 

\--

 

I don’t question my feelings for Gaby anymore. I know I don’t like her. I know I’m aromantic.

 

...or something along those lines.

 

\--

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

5:27 PM

_What’s the point of going out with someone if you know it’s not gonna last?_

 

To: Nalleli

From: Cymia

5: 29 PM

_it doesn’t always have to have a point.You can go out for someone and just have fun even if u know it’s not gonna last._

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

5:32 PM

_but that’s……..i really don’t see the point in that. it’s useless_

 

To: Nalleli

From: Cymia

5:33 PM

_i dont get how u dnt understand it._

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

6:15 PM

_I don’t either._

 

\--

 

The fact that I was romantically attracted to that boy in 7th grade nags at the back of my mind more often than it should. I’ve tried my best to discount my feelings, but I just can’t. I liked that boy, I know I did. His presence made me happy, his stupid jokes made me laugh, and that time I delivered chocolates to him on Valentine’s Day, the emotions it evoked, the rapid heart beat and the gross, sweaty palms….  
I liked him.

 

So I’m not aromantic, but I also am. I dig my palms into my eyes with frustration. Why can’t I just know who I am.

 

\--

 

“I’m not interested in romance.” Cymia and I are at the back porch of my house, talking while digging our hands into Hot Cheetos and ice cream.

 

I look into her eyes and wait for her reaction. She looks to the side, thinking. “I know you didn’t like Gabby like that, but what about 7th grade?”

 

I look down at my hands. “I did like him.”

 

“Well, then you’re bound to like someone again. Just wait until you’re older, the perfect one will come!” She looks at me with an optimistic smile, and I cringe and look down.

 

“But I don’t want to like someone again. I’m not interested in it.” I say agitatedly.

 

She contemplates it for moment longer and then shrugs and drops the topic. I inwardly groan. Sometimes, Cymia is too weak willed…..

 

\--

 

**grey-aromantic (noun)**

**one who rarely experiences romantic attraction, or experiences very little romantic attraction. A subset of aromantic.**

 

I look at this definition with wide eyes. My heart beats faster, my palms are sweating, and my body is shaking with excitement.  

 

This is it. I think, almost crying with happiness. This is me.

 

\--

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

Time: 7:01 PM

_u’ve ever heard of grey-aromanticism?_

 

To: Nalleli

From: Cymia

Time: 7:03 PM

_no what is it?_

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

Time: 7:04 PM

_u know how I told you about being aromantic? Well, there’s a whole spectrum to that! There’s people who rarely experience romantic attraction, and I’m one of them! I’m not aro. I’m grey-aro :)_

 

To: Nalleli

From: Cymia

Time: 7:10 PM

_i get it but to be honest, i never rly understood the whole aro thing. how can u not like someone? ull prob find someone eventually_

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

Time: 7:15

_well…….idk. there’s different people with different likes and dislikes. also telling an aro person that they’ll find someone eventually is the same as telling a gay guy that he’ll find a girl he likes eventually_

I’m frustrated. Cymia, she’s a hopeless romantic. She swoons and she sighs and she enjoys all of the sappy cliches. That’s who she is, and I don’t blame her for that. I don’t expect her to understand it right away, but it’s frustrating.

 

\--

 

It takes a couple of months, but eventually, she understands. She opens her eyes and sees that there are people out there who don’t experience romantic relationships, she comes to see the your opinion on romance and actual romantic attraction are two different things. The fact that she talks with me about it, and accepts it as an actual orientation, it makes me feel validated. It’s not like I wasn’t confident after I found it, it’s just that being recognized and accepted by your friends…

 

It’s a good feeling.

 

\--

 

“I don’t want to get married.”

 

“I don’t want kids.”

 

“I want to live in an apartment with my friend instead of a partner.”

 

“I don’t dress up to look cute for people, I do it for myself.”

 

I tell all of this to my family, because all of this is true. Other aromantic-spectrum people have a wide variety of opinions and what they would like for their future, but this is what I want.

 

My family questions me whenever I say so, or they just wave it off and tell me I’ll find the one eventually. This would have frustrated me before, but now that Cymia validated me, I have much more strength.

 

\--

  


**Nalleli Rodriguez- grey-aro/ace, they/them, female.**

 

I press ‘enter’. This time, with finality.

 

That’s it. That is part of who I am.

  
  



	2. Delusion of a Cupio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance is considered a necessity in society. Some people trick themselves into believing they want or can feel this strange term called romance. They do this because one cannot feel happy without romance in their lives.
> 
> Or so they say.
> 
> We've read about Nalleli's experience. Now, it's time to read Cymia's side of the story.

It is the beginning of fall. My best friend, Nalleli Rodriguez, and I are walking away from the Warez High School after my play rehearsal under a setting sun. We are holding hands and bickering like usual while walking to the bus stop. I start talking about my current crush, Jordan, as we patiently wait to cross the street. 

 

“He’s soooo cool!” I sigh dreamily, “I finally talked to him today in practice. We had an actual conversation and everything!” 

 

“Really? That’s good. Next thing you’ll know, you guys will be holding hands and  _ kissing under the falling snow. _ ” Nalleli says with a laugh.  

 

”Leeeeliiii.” I whine. She’s always finding new ways to try to annoy me and it usually worked. “Leave me alone! It’s a good way to have a first kiss! Especially with Jordan…” As I say this, I think of how it would feel to kiss him. To be loved by him. The problem is that while I am thinking this, I feel nothing. 

 

_Aren’t girls supposed to get rapidly beating_ _hearts and red faces thinking this stuff? Why can’t I feel it? I don’t understand it..... What if I don’t feel anything with Jordan while holding hands or kissing? No… not again..._

 

“On second thought, that sounds like a bad idea….”

 

“What?” I hear Nalleli say. I freeze. 

 

_ She heard?  **Shit** _ _. She heard she heard she heard.  _ I mentally scold myself for my tendency to think out loud.  _ Just say it was nothing! Maybe she’ll let it go……  _

 

**_Why is it that I don’t want her to let it go? Maybe I should tell the truth and be honest for once. I’m so tired of lying._ **

 

I don’t want to see her reaction when I tell her what I’m about to say. I’m afraid to see her face that’ll for sure have the expression of reproach on it. She’s gonna think that I’m such a hypocrite. 

 

_ Please don’t hate me _ . 

 

I take a deep breath while looking at the orange sky and let out a secret that I’ve kept hidden from everyone, including myself. ”What if I told you... that all this time I’ve never  _ felt _ anything for a person I thought I liked?”

 

A strong gust of wind blows and the walking man flashes white.   

 

\--

 

“Will you be okay? You’ve got everything? Your ID? Notebooks?” my mom asks.

 

“YES. Can you stop now, Ma? I wanna meet the teacher!” 

 

“Okay. Be careful, love,” she says as she gently places a kiss on my dark brown curly hair.

 

I walk into my second grade classroom. I see some old friends and excitedly walk over to them. Our teacher comes in and gives the most devastating news a second grader could ever hear. “Class, I have assigned seats for you.” We all groan. We want to sit next to our friends.

 

I’m assigned a seat next to a boy. He has light caramel colored skin and a slight afro. His eyes are as brown as my own. I smile at him because I was taught it was the polite thing to do. He smiles back and a weird thing happens. My heart skips a beat. 

 

_ Weird…. Am I gonna die?! _

 

Of course our teacher doesn’t just stop at assigned seats. She makes each of us stand and introduce ourselves to the class. By the time my turn comes around, I’m a nervous wreck. Talking in front of people is  _ not _ my thing. Besides, I find people’s eyes to be extremely creepy.

On the other hand, the boy next to me gladly stands up. He says his name so cheerfully and casually. “My name is Aaron Brown.” I stare at him with awe.  _ How does he do it? _

 

“Now class, turn towards your neighbor and get to know each other.” says the teacher. “Talk about your interests or what you did over the summer.”  _ Seriously lady?! You just don’t know when to stop, do you? I’m soooo telling Mom on you. _

 

I just stare at my desk since I don’t know how to engage in a conversation with people I don’t know. 

 

“Um. Hi . ” the boy next to me says. ‘I’m Aaron. You’re Cymia, right?” I am startled when I hear Aaron speaking to me. I’m not exactly an interesting character and it shows. 

 

“Y-yeah. Um. W-what did you do over summer?” I shyly ask.

 

“Oh. I went swimming and played basketball with my sisters and cousins! What did you do?”

 

We start talking about our families and find out that they know each other. As we keep talking, I find it easier to converse with him. We stop once we hear our teacher say,”Time’s up.” I feel totally disappointed. I want to talk with Aaron more.  _ Oh well. School isn’t about friends anyway. I must make my grades the highest in the class!  _

 

My thoughts are interrupted when I see a white piece of paper fall on my desk. I turn to the side to look at Aaron. He’s paying attention to the teacher with a bored expression.  _ Maybe it isn’t from him. This note probably isn’t for me either.  _ Then, I flip the paper around and am proven wrong. It says 

 

**To: Samya**

 

**It’s soo kool that our family knows each other! Maybe we can come over each other’s house and play!**

 

Again. The weird thing happens  **again** when I realize the note is from Aaron. I scribble my reply and hand over the paper. Our hands touch. I almost gasp from how it makes my hand tingle and feel warm.

 

_ What is _ wrong  _ with me?! _

 

\--

 

Aaron quickly becomes my best friend. We always talk and laugh when we are supposed to be quiet. He is fun to be around and his jokes are extremely funny.

 

A year later, I realize that I like him as more than a best friend. Of course, my silly crush is obvious. My whole family knows about it. He and his family knows too. Though, I won’t find out about this until much later.

 

Years pass by. Aaron and I start distancing from each other due to my family situations and peer pressure. Soon, he’s no longer my best friend, but just a hopeless crush.

 

\--

 

It’s fifth grade. I’m in a class with a teacher who has the scariest reputation in the whole elementary. I have a reputation of my own. I’m known as ‘the smart girl’. By this time, my name is always on the top of the honor roll list. A single year hasn’t gone by when I’m not chosen as Student of the Month first.

 

Passing tests is exceptionally easy, but making friends is not. I feel like everyone around me just wants to be my friend for test and homework answers. This leaves me friendless. Everyday, I  ignore the empty feeling that should be happiness since having no friends is the least of my worries. However, one fateful day changes everything.

 

\--

 

Fifth graders have a job called ‘Safety Officers’. What we do is watch the little kids on the playground during recess and write up anyone who does something bad. It’s my week to be the head officer. The head officer just goes around to check on safety officers at each post. As I am making rounds, my stomach starts to growl like a wild beast.

 

**Crunch**

 

I hear the sound of someone eating something and it’s like music to my ears. I quickly walk down the stairs toward the noise. A girl with dirty blonde, waist-length hair is eating pretzels. She’s wearing an orange sash.  _ She’s a safety officer eating on the job.  _ This is against the rules, but I don’t care at the moment.

 

Her green eyes look up at me in surprise. She quickly puts the pretzels away until I stop her.

 

“Wait.” I say, halting her. “Can I have one, please? I won’t tell on you.”

 

She looks hesitant , but eventually gives me one with a warm smile. I thank her for the pretzel. Remembering my manners, I say, ”My name’s Cymia. What’s yours?”

 

“Gabriela. You can call me Gabby.”

 

Little do I know that this small and unexpected encounter will change my world.

 

\--

 

Gabby and I become best friends. We tell each other our darkest secrets. I even tell her about my crush on Aaron.

 

Yes I know. My crush on him is freakishly long.

 

She introduces me to her group of friends who I am already familiar with. They don’t like me, but Gabby doesn’t care. She stays by my side and I am eternally grateful. The problem is, we change together in a bad way. We soon earn the title of ‘Class B’s’. 

 

No one likes us except for a couple of students. We talk crap about almost everyone. At one time, the whole class surrounds us on the swing set and spits out horrible names at us. This act of bullying doesn’t hurt our feelings. We think their efforts to intimidate us is tremendously amusing.

 

We graduate Magnet Elementary School and enter Thomas Jefferson Middle School together, where even more changes are headed our way.

 

\--

In sixth grade, Gabby and I are inseparable. I consider no one else to be my true friend except her. On the other hand, Gabby is making new friends left and right. I am always awkwardly standing there while she hangs out with them. It’s hard and I find myself questioning why I can’t make friends like she can. I ignore my feelings and pretend not to care. Eventually, I honestly don’t care that Gabby is my only friend, but other people do. Those other people are my dad and my step-mom, Trina. 

 

I am forced to spend the summer with my step-mom to “develop my personality”. My step-mom lives 5 states away from where my family (including my dad) and I live. Crazy, right?

 

At first, I think it would be fun to stay there the whole summer since it will be like an adventure away from home. Two weeks pass and I learn that I am dead wrong. I won’t go into detail, but let’s say that I get scarred emotionally. The effect the summer had will haunt me for years in the future. There will be nights where I will still wake up angry, confused, and scared. 

 

During the dreadful summer, I lose sight of who I am. I become like a doll heavily stuffed with the idea that I must meet societal expectations. 

 

Seventh grade begins and I am a completely different person. I socialize with everyone, even to those who I dislike. I laugh at the jokes people make even when it isn’t funny. I smile whenever I walk because apparently I have a resting bitch face. Gabby notices this change, but doesn’t say anything about it. In fact, I think that she likes the new me. Little does she know that behind my laughs and smiles is a little girl desperately crying out for help. A little girl who is terrified of rejection. A little girl who is trying to win the fight against her demons.  

 

Unaware of any of this, Gabby acts like she normally does. She brings her friends over and I bring mine. However, there is one friend of Gabby’s that will amend my life.

 

\--

 

One day in seventh grade, Gabby and I are sitting together in our new assigned seats in Algebra 1. The seats are arranged in a way where there are four put together. One seat is empty, but the other has a girl in it. She is short, with chest-length brunette hair and auburn eyes to match. 

 

_ Ah. Nalleli Rodriguez. The bitch who stole my best friend.    _

 

Lately, I’ve noticed Gabby changing and drifting away thanks to this short ass sitting across from me. Have you noticed I don’t like her? Good. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t start to dislike someone just because I’m jealous that my best friend talks to them more.  _ This girl _ , however, did something that made me dislike her.

 

During a school dance earlier that year, I tried to get Nalleli to dance with her crush who she already confessed to. I pushed her too far, causing her to leave with Gabby. I didn’t realize she actually got mad. After all, I was just trying to help. So during most of the dance, I searched for Nalleli and Gabby. Once I found them, they told me to go away. It hurt when I heard their words. Despite that, I ignored my feelings and walked away as usual. I spent the rest of the dance hanging out and dancing with a new friend I made. I felt like crying. Instead of letting the water fall onto my brown cheeks, I danced and danced until my mind became blank. 

 

I didn’t confront them the next day at school because I was afraid they’d reject me once more. Eventually, they forgot about the dance and we all became “close” friends again. I always remembered that day, but kept it buried deep in my mind so my anger wouldn’t come out. Over time, I forgave them since what I did was in the wrong too. Yet there was always one thing that bothered me.

 

_ They seemed happier when I wasn’t there. _

 

\--

 

Leli, Gabby, and I become good friends, although I am usually the one left out. It hurts a lot. However, I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach whenever I come to school and continue to laugh with them while they do their childish acts. 

 

The days continue on in the same fashion. It becomes somewhat boring. That is until I get a special note from a special someone.

 

\--

 

Will you go out with me?

-Aaron

I gape at the tiny paper note given to me in the girls’ locker room by one of my friends. I am completely dumbstruck that the boy who I have been crushing on for six years is asking me out and just a couple of days before Valentine’s Day! How I’ve been longing for this day!

 

_ This seems fishy. You guys haven’t talked in months and now he’s asking you out through paper?  _ As my negative voice speaks its opinion in my head, a sinking feeling develops in my stomach. However, I ignore it and scribble a ‘yes’ on the back of the paper. I feel extremely happy….. I think.

 

_ Huh. Strange. Why do I just feel indifferent and nervous? Is this how relationships are supposed to feel?  _

 

Three days pass and Aaron has not talked to me once nor give me anything for Valentine’s Day.  _ Maybe it was too soon for gifts. It’s okay. This is normal for middle school relationships…. right? _

 

A loud bing from my phone rings through the air, disrupting my thoughts. I pick it up and read the message that I have been unconsciously expecting.

 

To: Cymia

From: Aaron

Saturday- 12:24 p.m

 

Don’t you think this is awkward? Let’s break up…..

 

_ Just as I thought. This must’ve all been a joke. Funny. Why is it that when I read his message, all I feel is humiliation not sadness? Isn’t sadness and anger what you’re supposed to feel when these things happen?  _ I think about why I don’t feel devastated for almost 20 minutes until I decide to reply.

 

To: Aaron

From: Cymia

Saturday- 12:42 p.m

 

Okay

 

I tell Gabby and Nalleli about what happened immediately. Nalleli is particularly furious. In fact, she is so livid that she lectures him through text. I appreciate their feelings on the matter because it makes me feel like they care. However, the problem is that they mistake my tears for sadness. I’m not crying due to heartbreak, but due to humiliation. I already hate myself, so being humiliated school-wide really overwhelms me. Eventually, I move on and ignore the stares and whispers in the hallway whenever I walk past. 

 

The days pass by until eighth grade comes around. This year will be the year where relationships will happen, bonds broken, and confusing questions asked that won’t be easily answered. This is the year where I question myself and all that I believe in.

 

\--

 

The autumn leaves swirl around my long curly hair. Nalleli and I are walking towards Gabby’s house to hang out. I grew fond of the short brunette walking next to me. I learned to look past her blunt behavior and see what was actually there. I thought I figured out the puzzle that is Nalleli Rodriguez until I hear her say something that intrigues me.

 

“I think……….I think I like a girl.” 

 

A million questions run through my mind, but only two remain clear.

 

“Really? Who?!” I say with my excitement showing. 

 

I wait for her reply, but for a full minute all I get is a confused look. I shake her arm to snap her out of her daze. When she replies, it is almost hesitant. 

 

“.......Gabby.”

 

As she goes into detail, my excitement grows for reasons even I don’t understand. All I know is that I want to know every detail about her feelings and finally solve this puzzle once and for all.

 

\--

 

Once Leli shares this secret with me, our bond deepens. We start to text until midnight talking about jeanmarco fanfictions or a strange term called asexual that leaves my stomach feeling queasy. We start to talk more and more, even when Gabby isn’t around.  _ Especially _ when Gabby isn’t around.  Leli talks about her all the time. She texts to me about the little things she does and about how perfect she is. 

 

I support her and try to help her in every way. I am there when she tells Gabby about how she is bi and listen to her complaints about Gabby’s new boyfriend. However, one day while hanging out in the park, a thought appears in my head that I have never considered before. It leaves me with mixed emotions.

 

\--                                       

 

Ever since the day Leli told Gabby that she was bi, Gabby has been more touchy with Leli and I. Mostly with Leli. So when I see Gabby lean in for a kiss towards Leli at the park, I am simply baffled for two reasons.

 

The first reason is:  _ why are they doing this in front of me? When people share their first kiss, shouldn’t they do that privately?   _ The second reason is because of a thought that flashes through my mind and leaves me feeling afraid.

 

_ If they become a couple, I’ll be left all alone. _

 

As I see Gabby’s pink lips fall onto Leli’s pale forehead, I run towards them. I give Leli a knowing smile and continue to stroll ahead. Once I am sure they aren’t looking at me, I let my smile waver. 

 

_ I want to support her, but how can I when I don’t want to be left behind?  _

 

_ The answer is simple.  _

 

**_Don’t get left behind._ **

 

\--

 

For the next weeks, I scold myself for thinking such a selfish thing. I can’t look Leli in the eye because I feel so guilty. This thought and my family situations becomes overwhelming. Depression slowly creeps up on me. 

 

I start to feel sleepy all the time and unmotivated to do anything, even talk to Leli and Gabby.  _ Funny how I don’t want to get left behind yet I ignore them. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.  _

 

**_I’m so tired of lying to myself that everything is okay when it’s not._ **

 

One day while I am sleeping, I have a dream which is very rare. I dream of someone killing me. The sad part is that the person pulling the trigger is myself. I wake up screaming. I decide that I can’t take it anymore. I go to a friend to talk about how I am feeling. 

 

Once I tell my friend about everything, it feels as though a heavy weight is being lifted off my shoulders. My friend helps me organize my thoughts and accept what is happening. Suddenly, everything didn’t seem so hard anymore. I wonder what would have happened if I didn’t go talk to her.

 

Although I am moving on, the effects don’t disappear right away. I am still drowsy and unmotivated with multiple things. To liven myself up I join sports. I become a cheerleader, volleyball, and softball player. I notice a good change in myself. 

 

Before softball season starts, I get a boyfriend.    
  
\--   
  
“See you guys in a minute.” I tell Leli and Gabby as I walk down the steps towards my locker. I would usually walk faster, but today I can’t because I’m accompanied by someone who has been around frequently. 

 

_ Andrew Will. The boy who’ve I’ve been flirting with in communications class.  _

He has the same shade of brown skin as I do, with black hair styled in a shaved afro. The best part is that he is the same height as me, unlike my ex-boyfriend. 

 

We walk towards my locker in a nervous silence. Once we get there, Andrew decides to speak.

 

“Um. Cymia? Do you like me?” 

 

_ What? That was unexpected.  _ I think as I feel my face heat up.  _ Why is he so blunt sometimes? Well….. do I like him? He’s kind of funny and he is decent looking. I wouldn’t mind dating him. Well, here it goes. _

 

“....Yeah.” 

 

“I like you too.” He says without hesitation.

 

“CYMIA!” I flinch when I hear Leli and Gabby scream my name.  _ Good job ruining the moment, you guys. _

 

“I gotta go.” I mutter while putting on my backpack. ”See you on Monday.” I walk away without waiting for a reply. 

 

Leli, Gabby, and I walk out the double doors together. As the breeze flips our hair in all directions, I notice that my heart is beating at a normal pace.

 

_ Strange. I just confessed to someone I like. Shouldn’t my heart be beating out my chest?  _

 

**_I don’t understand….._ **

 

\--

 

Monday arrives. Andrew and I become more touchy with each other. Everyday, he walks me to my locker. Then we hug and go our separate ways. After this, I meet up with Leli, Gabby, and a couple of other friends at a bank nearby. The days go on the same way. One day while my friends start to converse at the bank, I remain silent. I become trapped in my own world of confusing thoughts.

 

_ It’s been almost 3 weeks since we started going out. I thought I liked Andrew, but not once have I felt my heart beat faster. When we hold hands, I don’t feel anything. When he compliments me, I feel indifferent. Why, why, why, why! Why can’t I feel it? I want to so bad.  _

 

Overwhelmed by my frustration, I suddenly hug Gabby while whispering,”This is bad.”

 

“Cymia? What is?” Gabby says. The alarm is clear in her voice.

 

_ What are you doing!? She won’t understand! Hurry and make something up!  _

 

“T-this is bad. I like Andrew so much that it hurts…”  _ Not being able to feel anything hurts. Please Gabby. Read inbetween the lines. Answer my call for help. _

 

Gabby hugs me back and says,” It’s okay. It’s normal to love your boyfriend.”

 

_ No. This isn’t normal. This isn’t normal at all.  _

 

\--

 

One day while reading fanfiction, I get an idea to test out.  _ I’m going to kiss Andrew’s cheek to see if I can feel anything towards him. _

 

The next day, I announce to my friends what I want to do. They all support me, yet when the time comes, I can’t do it. Days pass and like a coward, I still don’t kiss him. I begin to get frustrated.

 

_ Why can’t I do it? _ I ask myself as I flop on my pink bed. Staring at the white ceiling, I start to question myself some more.

 

_ Why can’t I kiss him? Why can’t I feel anything for him? Why do I feel forced to be in this relationship when I wanted it? Why did I also feel indifferent to Aaron a little while after my ‘crush’ developed? Why did I want to know every detail about how Leli felt towards Gabby? _

 

**_Why do I even want romance?_ **

 

I continue to search and search for answers until I come up with a conclusion.

 

_ I want romance because society wants me to have it. Ever since I was a child, my head was filled with thoughts that having romance is a necessity to life. Now I can’t help but crave for it. After all, they make romance sound like the best feeling anyone can experience. The problem is that my craving will never diminish because I can’t feel anything. I wanted to know about Leli’s feelings because I was unconsciously comparing what I felt to how she felt. I didn’t want to kiss him because I was scared that I might not feel anything. _

 

I come to terms that I may never feel romantic attraction towards another human being. That is until I start to think about what my family would say. I become scared because my family will definitely think I’m acting ridiculous. They will think that this is just a phase- that I haven’t found the right person yet, but I just  _ know _ that I may never feel anything for someone whether they are the right person or not. This fear of being judged clouded my mind, leaving me chilled to the bone with anxiety. 

 

_ Forget everything that you just accepted. You want romance. You can feel it. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. _

 

As I think this thought that causes my emotions to detach from my body, a tear silently falls onto my pillow. It’s moisture disappears, as does my last hope of acting like myself. 

 

\--

 

Leli and I are sitting at the back porch of her house. This is the first time that we hung out without Gabby. I’m staring absentmindedly at the blue sky while eating hot cheetos when I hear Leli say,”I’m not interested in romance.”

 

_ Ugh. Not  _ this _ again. Can’t she just say that she likes romance and move on? It’ll make things so much easier.  _ She claims she didn’t like Gabby, yet I can’t help but wonder how she came to that conclusion. After all, she had many fantasies about our favorite dirty blond that she told me about. Despite this, I believe her when she says she doesn’t like the green eyed beauty.

 

“I know you didn’t like Gabby like that, but what about 7th grade?”

 

“I did like him.” Leli says as she looks down at her hands.

 

_ Then why are you questioning it? You are making things way more complicated than it has to be. _

 

“Well, then you’re bound to like someone again.” I say with a fake cheerful voice and optimistic smile that I’ve used too many times. “Just wait until you’re older, the perfect one will come!” 

 

_ You’re so fake, Cymia. Aren’t those the words you are afraid to hear from your family? Now you’re saying them to someone who wants to be true to herself.  _

 

“But I don’t  **want** to like someone again. I’m not interested in it.” Leli agitatedly says.

 

_ Woah. She’s mad. I don’t want to argue. There’s no point argueing when I don’t agree with what I trained myself to believe.  _

In response, I just shrug because I don’t want to talk about the subject anymore. We start talking about something else. I’m half listening because of a thought that keeps echoing in my mind.

 

**_Why can’t I be true to myself like she is?_ **

 

\--

**BING**

 

I cross towards my phone that flashes green. It is a message from Nalleli.

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

7:01 pm

 

u’ve ever heard of grey-aromanticism? 

 

_ Huh? What is this gibberish?  _ As I think this, I stare intensely at the foreign word. Once I see the word ‘aromantic’, my stomach drops.  _ This again... I wonder what the whole term means, though. _

 

To: Nalleli 

From: Cymia

7:03 pm

 

no what is it?

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli   
7:04 pm

 

u know how I told you about being aromantic? Well, there’s a whole spectrum to that! There’s people who rarely experience romantic attraction, and I’m one of them! I’m not aro. I’m grey-aro :)

 

_...What? She actually did research about this? What is with her and labels?  _ Even though I start to get annoyed, curiosity stirs within me. I reread her message until my eyes start to hurt.  _ A whole spectrum? Does that mean there’s more than grey-aro? Maybe, just maybe there’s one for wh- _

 

**_Stop._ ** My negative voice cuts in and extinguishes any excitement that I had. **_Think of what your grandma would say. Don’t even consider what you were about to think. This is stupid. There’s only three sexualities in this world: straight, bi, and gay. She’s confused. Go on and tell her so._ **

 

As I type my reply, my hand shakes.

 

To: Nalleli

From: Cymia

7:10 pm

 

i get it but to be honest, i never rly understood the whole aro thing. how can u not like someone? ull prob find someone eventually

 

To: Cymia

From: Nalleli

7:15 pm

 

well... idk. there’s different people with different likes and dislikes. also telling an aro person that they’ll find someone eventually is the same as telling a gay guy that he’ll find a girl he likes eventually

 

_ I never thought of it like that. However, the difference is that being gay is actually a thing. Being aromantic is not…. right? _

 

As the night goes on, all I can think about is the conversation that Leli and I had. It makes me want to research if what I’m going through is a somewhat common thing between people. The urge becomes so strong that I grab my phone and open google.

 

Google: Is it normal to want romance even when you can’t feel it?

 

I stare at my finger that is hovering over the enter button.  _ If I do this, there is no turning back… _

 

“I-I can’t.” I exit out of Google and turn off my phone. _ Looking that up will make this whole I-can’t-feel-anything real. I refuse to believe that I can’t experience romantic attraction. I must be able to. After all, my family expects me to get married and have kids. How can I do that when I don’t feel anything? The answer is simple. I must lie to myself. I must  _ **_make_ ** _ myself believe that I can. _

 

\--

 

Despite my signs of uninterest, Leli continues to talk about the grey-aromantic thing. She starts to talk about it so much that I eventually start to understand it. I begin to accept that there are people out there who actually can’t feel it. People who aren’t confused and ashamed about not wanting romance. 

 

**_That doesn’t mean you can become those people. Your family will be so disappointed in you if you do. Don’t even think about becoming one of them. You must own up to the expectation of getting married and building a family._** I sigh as my negative voice exclaims this. _Why can’t I just be myself? Oh right. That’s because I don’t even know who I am anymore._

 

\--

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. Until finally, it is our middle school graduation.

 

As I walk the stage that’ll lead me into the next chapter of my life, I think back to who has made a difference to my world since my former graduation. 

 

Gabriela, my best friend who will sadly be attending a different high school. Aaron, who I hope to never cross paths with again. Andrew, a boy who was sweet enough to be my boyfriend for a month. Nalleli, a 5’1 girl who literally turned my view of the world inside-out. Despite how cheesy this sounds, she introduced me to new things. The years may not have gone the way I wanted them to, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

I gracefully continue to walk towards my principal. We shake hands and turn to smile for the camera. As I hear the camera-man say cheese, I begin to wonder what my future holds.

 

**Click**

 

\--

 

”What if I told you... that all this time I’ve never  _ felt _ anything for a person I thought I liked?”  _ I said it! I said it! Oh my  _ **_gosh_ ** _ , I said it! After all this time, I finally let myself acknowledge the fact that I can’t feel anything! _

 

_ …..Wait. Why hasn’t she said anything yet? It’s been 30 seconds already. She always replies quickly or makes a noise while she thinks of a response.  _ I turn to look at Leli and am met with a look as blank as a printer paper.  _ The Leli is speechless? What? No… no that  _ **_never_ ** _ happens. This was a bad idea... _

 

I notice that the red hand turns into the walking man so I cross the street in a fast manner. I’m halfway across when I hear Nalleli run next to me while saying,“Wait! What do you mean?” 

 

I steal a quick glance at the short-stack trotting next to me. She’s staring at me with confused amber eyes that want answers. 

 

_ This is gonna take a while to explain. I don’t even know where to start. _

 

“Okay so you know how-” I begin to clarify everything. I end up walking with her to her house when I am supposed to go straight home. By the time our discussion is almost done, it is nearly dark outside.

 

“So you didn’t like Aaron?” says Leli.

 

“I don’t even know anymore. I’m really confused. All this time, I’ve been putting up an act. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even know what I truly feel. All I know is that I want romance, but I’ve never actually felt it. I know I’m not making sense-”

 

“No. You are.” interrupts Leli. “Now that I think about it, this sounds really similar to cupio…”

 

_ So there IS a term for this. _ __   
__   
“It’s starting to get late though.” observes Leli. “ I’ll send you the link for it, okay?”  All I could do was nod and walk away. The whole time while I walk home, all I could think is how happy I am to know that what I’m experiencing happens to other people.

 

**BING** ****  
**  
** I excitedly open my phone and click on the link my best friend sent me. 

 

Cupiosexuality and Cupioromanticism:

 

A Cupiosexual is one who does not experience sexual attraction, but still desires a sexual relationship. Likewise, a Cupioromantic does not experience romantic attraction, but desires a romantic relationship.

_ Cupioromantic. I can’t believe it. This is it. This is exactly what I experience!  _ My excitement overwhelms me. It only lasts for a moment, though.  _ I don’t care what my family thinks anymore, but when and if I get a partner, I won’t be able to actually feel love for them. I’ll be deceiving them and myself again. I don’t want that.  _ I start to cry because I will never be able to give or receive the emotion that makes the world more colorful.

 

\--

 

Over the next few weeks, I do research on this term that defines my sexuality. Some of the stuff I find makes me angry. Some people believe cupioromantic and cupiosexual shouldn’t be in the aromantic spectrum. Those people need to acknowledge that  **there’s a difference between how you feel and what you feel; what you desire and how your body reacts** **_._ **

 

The more I read, the less sad I become about my romantic orientation. I start to not care that I may never experience this magical emotion called love. Yet there will always be a want for romance in my heart. However, as long as I have family love, friendship love, and a passion for what I do in life, I’ll be okay.

  
**Romance isn’t everything, after all. An amber eyed girl taught me that.**

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who are questioning if you're aromantic, please remember that this is solely MY experience with it and yours may be different. Some of us want romance even if we cannot feel it, some of us do not. Even if my experiences do not match yours, it does not take away from the fact that you may possibly be aromantic or in the aromantic-spectrum. Have a good day <3


End file.
